


count the days

by scepticallyopenminded



Series: 30 Day Lyrics Challenge - 2017 [25]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/F, F/M, First Meetings, M/M, Minor Allison Argent/Scott McCall, Minor Ethan/Danny Mahealani, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-20 16:27:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13150512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scepticallyopenminded/pseuds/scepticallyopenminded
Summary: When Lydia tells Stiles that she wants him to meet her soulmate, Stiles is...hesitant. Not because he doesn’t want to meet the girl who’s made Lydia happier than he’s seen her in years, but because it’s just unfair.Because this means that Stiles is the last one in his friend group to meet his soulmate, and it’s getting really fucking old.





	count the days

**Author's Note:**

> y'all I really wanted to do a Christmas fic, ngl, but also I wanted a soulmate fic for this lyric and I couldn't fit the two of them together so I went with soulmate fic bc fuck yeah. I love soulmate fics. I'm actually interested in writing a Sterek one that's non-typical soulmate fic (in which they aren't actually soulmates) so maybe that'll happen sometime? But for now:
> 
> lyric from Coheed and Cambria's The Light & the Glass:
> 
> "Would it really matter, if you were to count the days left with your hands?"

When Lydia tells Stiles that she wants him to meet her soulmate, Stiles is...hesitant. Not because he doesn’t want to meet the girl who’s made Lydia happier than he’s seen her in years, but because it’s just  _ unfair _ . 

Because this means that Stiles is the  _ last one  _ in his friend group to meet his soulmate, and it’s getting really fucking  _ old _ . Scott and Danny got so fucking lucky, both meeting their respective soulmates (Allison and Ethan) in  _ high school _ of all places. 

Then Jackson met his when their first year of college, and then there was Isaac, who met his their sophomore year, and Kira met Malia their senior year of college and it was just Stiles and Lydia. 

Except now it’s five days before Stiles’ twenty-fifth birthday and Lydia met her soulmate two weeks ago and  _ he’s the only one  _ in his entire friend group that hasn’t met their soulmate. 

And it’s not with a lack of trying; when he was younger, early teens, he used to go to the mall and just sit on one of the benches and  _ listen _ , hoping to hear the infamous “Fuck. I can’t believe it’s you”.

It’d caused some dissention in his life over the years, as could be expected; a lot of people's soul marks included swear words, as could be expected, but that didn’t mean he didn’t get made fun of. And  _ especially  _ so because his words were clearly marked on his forearm. He couldn’t even hide them, like many people could with soul marks on backs or stomachs or Scott’s (hilariously) on his left buttock. 

He’d gotten in the habit of wearing long sleeves in middle and high school, always, because he couldn’t  _ stand  _ the comments.

He’s  _ happy  _ for Lydia, so incredibly happy because she’s essentially his best friend (besides Scott, but Stiles considers him his bro, anyway) and has been since he got over her in eighth grade. 

But  _ god _ , he’s almost  _ twenty-five _ . He knows plenty of people don’t meet their soulmates until later in life - his dad hadn’t met his mom until he was thirty-two - but he feels like he’s aging and nothing’s happening. He’s dated off and on, had plenty of one night stands in college but nothing’s ever felt  _ right _ because he knows he has a soulmate somewhere. 

**Lyds** _ You almost here??? _

Stiles rolls his eyes as he reads the text message, only a block from the coffee shop. He doesn’t bother answering, shoving his phone in his back pocket and booking it the last two hundred feet. Lydia is known for being impatient, and yeah, he’s fifteen minutes late, but he got out of work late so it isn’t  _ his  _ fault. 

He spots Lydia as soon as he’s inside the place, sitting at a window table with a dark-haired girl leaning into her and  _ that  _ must be Cora, he thinks. He’s waving as Lydia looks up, focused on her and her  _ soulmate _ and then his shoulder is running into some very hard body and he’s spinning, nearly tumbling if not for the hand that grabs his upper arm.

A  _ zing  _ goes through him, like electricity coursing through his veins and he sees a coffee cup in a large hand yanked away from both their bodies, only the smallest splash coming out of the cup and he watches it  _ sploosh  _ onto the tile floor before he looks up and his heart is already beating so fast because  _ that  _ was -

“Damn, you are  _ gor _ geous,” comes out of Stiles’ mouth before he can filter it, his hand gripping the other man’s forearm which is solid as fuck, whoa. And the man  _ is _ gorgeous; dark hair, greenish-blue-grey eyes with flecks of gold, just the perfect amount of stubble and a jawline that could cut glass, like  _ damn _ .

And that face - perfectly situated, like it was carved by a fucking renaissance artist it’s so on point - goes through an array of expressions in a very short amount of time. 

“Fuck,” the man eventually breathes out, and god  _ his voice  _ is doing things to Stiles, it really is, “I can’t believe it’s you.”

“Oh my  _ god _ ,” Stiles blurts out, the words he’s dreamt about since he was a child were just uttered by the most beautiful man he’s ever seen in his life. Scratch that, the most beautiful  _ person  _ he’s ever seen in his life. 

“Uh, Derek?” a voice speaks up just beyond where they’re standing, in the middle of the cafe, and the man’s gaze snaps over behind Stiles, blinking and Stiles can see the awe on the man’s - Derek’s? - face and he knows his own expression is a mirror of that. He blinks, unable to take his eyes off Derek but he can feel the eyes of people around them staring, and it’s only when he hears - 

“Stiles.”

It’s Lydia, and he blinks once more, eyes tracing Derek’s every little detail quickly before he turns to see her, sitting with a smirk on her face and the woman next to her is watching them, amused. He realizes that the original voice, calling the man, was  _ hers _ .

“You wanna sit maybe?” Cora asks, eyes flicking between the two of them, and Stiles turns back to Derek, who’s watching him again with a soft smile. 

“I,” Stiles starts, then shakes his head, “I. Um.”

“Let’s,” Derek agrees, and that’s when Stiles realizes they’re still gripping each other - Derek’s fingers on his elbow, his hand surrounding Derek’s forearm - and Derek slips his hand down until they’re holding hands, and  _ oh _ , oh god,  _ this is what it’s all about _ .

He lets Derek drag him over to the table where they sit across from Lydia and Cora. 

“So I wanted you to meet Cora,” Lydia starts, and it’s just Stiles listening from the background because he can’t take his eyes off his  _ soulmate _ , “But I think maybe you’re not going to be able to listen to anything I have to say.”

“Uh huh,” Stiles agrees, letting his eyes flicker to Lydia for just half a second before returning to Derek. He faintly hears Lydia and Cora laugh.

“I think maybe we should leave them alone and meet up again in a couple of days when they’ve fucked each other into exhaustion,” Cora suggests, and it’s  _ stupid cute  _ how the tips of Derek’s ears go red at that. 

“Shut  _ up _ , Cora,” he growls out, and Stiles isn’t going to say that he doesn’t feel tingles again - butterflies in his stomach like he hasn’t felt since the ninth grade talent show, but these are  _ much better  _ butterflies. 

“You know her?” he finds himself asking Derek because his curiosity has always been one of his faults.

“She’s my sister,” Derek answers and it’s clear he can’t take his eyes off Stiles, either. 

“Alright, seriously, though,” Lydia says, “Bye.”

Cora says something in lane with that, but Stiles barely hears their chairs scraping the floor, them gathering their coats, the shuffle as they leave. He holds up one hand in a sort of goodbye wave, all he can manage.

“I can’t believe  _ you’re  _ the one who cursed me with the word fuck on my arm all my life,” Stiles eventually speaks, and Derek  _ laughs _ , and it’s dazzling. It really, really is.

“Right, like having ‘Damn you’re gorgeous’ on your collarbone is really any better,” Derek replies, “You have no idea how much fuel my sisters got out of that.”

“Uh huh.” Stiles is smiling, the biggest smile he thinks he’s had in a while. He feels light, happy, floaty, and the gentle rubbing of Derek’s thumb across his fingers feels like lightning. 

He’s five days away from being twenty-five, and he’s finally  _ found  _ him.

**Author's Note:**

> find me at [asocialfoxpaw](http://asocialfoxpaw.tumblr.com)
> 
> don't post my stuff on goodreads or like sites thanks!


End file.
